


Beastly Kingdom

by fuzzyizmit



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Companion Death, Drug Use, Drugs, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Ghoul Sex, Ghouls, Gore, Minor Character Death, My First Smut, Nukaworld, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Raiders, Sex, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2019-10-12 22:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17476058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzyizmit/pseuds/fuzzyizmit
Summary: After defeating the Institute, Nate, the sole survivor of Vault 111 finds Nuka World under the thumb of a powerful and ruthless Overboss... and she seems so familiar... Can he trust this viscous ghoul?NOTE 1: This fic is assuming you have played through the main game (and completed the main story line) and Nuka-World DLC. I am going to hit the ground running here, without much time spent on back story etc.NOTE 2: This is a side story that has been bopping around in my brain for a while. I will work on it when the whimsy takes me, but my primary story (Antique Champagne) is going to be my main focus. I figure if I put a teaser out there, it will make sure that it stays on my radar.Also: All the images used are royalty free. Most from pexels.com.





	1. Let the Games Begin

**Author's Note:**

> As a side note, I had a really hard time using "it" instead of "he" for Codsworth, but -even though this is not written first person- I feel thematically dehumanizing him fit the focus of the scene.

Gage tentatively tapped on the door that hung partly open, knowing the response he was likely to receive.

“Boss…?” He cautiously opened the wider, the light from the hallway cutting a slice of light into the darkened apartment. A vicious looking knife streaked past his face, embedding in the door next to his yellow eyepatch.

“Damn it, Dixie. Stop that shit.” He snarled.

“The Overboss doesn’t like being disturbed when she is having her private time, darlin’. You know that.” Dixie’s southern drawl had a nearly musical cadence to it, which always unnerved Gage. She appeared from the darkness, skipping cheerily to retrieve her knife. Gage moved aside; weary of getting within striking range of her blade.

“Enough, _children_.” The Overboss’s gruff voice silenced them. “Gage knows whatever it is has to be pretty important to crash my chem party. Dixie, would you be a doll and get the light?”

Gage thought he saw Dixie give him a once over as she passed by him, but with her face obscured by a half dozen metal straps she called a helmet, he was not sure. With a flick of a switch, a small orange lamp with a red shade sprang to life, eerily filling the room with weak red light. Gage watched the Overboss’s figure rise from her resting positon on a worn couch, propping herself up on one elbow. She waved for him to continue.

“Someone new has entered the Gauntlet.” He could feel the Overboss’s gaze narrow. “Not normally noteworthy, I know. But once I saw who it was, I knew you would want to know right away.”

She motioned to the bank of jury-rigged monitors on the adjacent wall. Gage stood in front of the control panel, struggling to remember which buttons did what.

“Need a little help with that, sugar?” Dixie teased. “I’m sure we could spare a mentat or ten.”

“Shut up. I got it.” Gage hissed back.

After a few more button presses, two of the monitors blinked on. They showed a tall man with dark hair cutting a bloody swath easily through twisting corridors made of plywood and jagged metal. He was trailed by a three armed robot who quickly floating in and out of combat on it’s powerful jet engine. The man turned his back to the camera as he threw a grenade at a swarm of flying ants, flashing bright yellow numbers across the screen.

_111_

The Overboss got up and moved closer to get a better look. The glow from the monitors highlighted the deep crevasse in her skin. She narrowed her dilated and bloodshot eyes, her mouth contorting into a grimace. Gage hated that face. The Overboss looked too much like a feral ghoul when she did that.

 _Not that she didn’t always look a little feral_. He thought. To him, all ghouls looked feral most of the time. Not that he would say such a thing in front of the Overboss.

“Get my power amour ready.” She ordered. “Looks like we are going to have a bit more fun today then I had planned.”

A short time later, the Overboss strode out into the old Cola Cars arena decked out in her masterfully constructed power armor. She had customized it over the past year, cannibalizing a few space sentrybots to create a truly imposing presence. The white and gold paint playfully reflected back the red neon lights onto the rowdy group gathered to watch the bloodshed.

“READY FOR SOME FUN?” roared the Overseer as she paced the square, hands pumping in the air. The frenzied crowed roared back.

“He’s in the locker room, Boss. I’ll try to time the door to keep the robot out.” Buzzed Gage through her helmet’s communication rig.

“Let’em come! All of’em. Let’s have a barbeque!” she growled. With perfect theatrical timing, she let a blast of fire from her wrist-mounted flamethrowers as the Vault Dweller entered the hallway leading to the arena. The audience was on its feet, salivating for blood, as the blue suited stranger stepped through the door, his face covered with a camouflage bandana. The hovering Mr. Handy followed close behind as the door slammed shut behind them.

The Overseer silenced the crowd with a single hand. Instantaneously, the area was drop dead quiet, save for the buzzing of the Handy’s thruster and the buzzing neon.

“Welcome to Nuka-World, General.” She towered over the man by nearly two feet. “Your reputation precedes you. I’m not sure what kind of reception you thought you’d get, but killing the leader of the Minute Men AND the guy who brought down the Institute… but those gold numbers will look great framed on my wall.”

The Vault Dweller stood up and dropped his gun to his waist, still on guard but offering a non-hostile air. “I’m not here to fight. I have a proposition.”

The Overseer let out a laugh. This was a first. Most people either started firing or shat their pants in the arena. None ever started shooting off at the mouth. The crowd voiced their displeasure with a volley of curses and boos. She held out a hand for silence.

“You got balls, given the path you had to carve to stand before me here and lie straight to my face.”

The Vault Dweller tossed the gun he held nimbly to her.

“I didn’t kill anyone to get in here… at least not on purpose.” He put his hands on his hips as she looked over the firearm. Opening the magazine and removing the ammo, she held a syringe in her hand. She hit her com link to Gage.

“Talk to me.”

“Most of the guys in the Gauntlet are coming around… well, everyone except Dicer. Took one of those to the eye…”

She narrowed her eyes. This guy deserved caution, he was a slippery fucker. “You have one minute before I get bored and start the party.”

Seeing he had her attention spoke. “It seems we have a common enemy. With the Institute gone, the Brotherhood of Steel would sure love to put all the Commonwealth under their thumb, including Nuka-World.”

This fact was something she was well aware of, but teaming up with the Minute Men seemed a bit of a stretch.

He removed his bandana. The Overseer’s jaw dropped. This had to be some kind of cruel joke.

“Nate?” she mumbled. “Nate Smith?”

Now the Vault Dweller looked as confused as the Overseer felt. Not a lot of people knew his reputation knew him by his name… let alone his last name.

“How do you know my full name?”

The Overseer removed her helmet. “I don’t know what fuckery Vault-Tec pulled to let you keep skin on that 200 year old pretty boy face… but not everyone from the old neighborhood was lucky enough to make it on a vault list.”

Old feelings swirled in her chest. She had spent years cursing the names of everyone who had made it into Vault 111… saved from watching the world fall to shit while normal people tried to figure out how to survive. Only she didn’t get to stay normal. Not only had she had to deal with her flesh and hair falling off in chunks as the radiation ravaged her body, she watched it destroy the minds of those around her. Only by pure survival instinct had she kept herself from turning feral over the decades.

She saw that Nate still couldn’t place her. Unexpectedly, the robot piped up.

“Sir, if I may.”

Nate nodded. “Go ahead, Codsworth.”

“My voice recognition algorithms may be a bit rusty and her condition has changed a few parameters, but I believe that we may be talking with Ms. Rosa.”

“Ms. Rosa?” Nate turned back to the ghoul covered head to toe in glistening power armor. “Liz?”

“You are correct Codsworth.” She raised her arm, the chain gun whirring to life. “My regards.”

Nate instinctively dove out of the way as the hail of bullets rained down on the surprised robot, tearing it to pieces.

“If you really want to talk, follow me.” Liz turned to walk away.

“Ssir?” the robot chirped. “I’m so very… sorry.” It’s servos hitched, grinding painfully. Nate ran to pick up its limp eye stalks, stroking it’s pitted chrome body.

Nate turned, furious. “What the fuck was that for? I told you I’m not here to hurt anyone!”

Liz walked right up to him, inches from his red face. “I am.” She unloaded another clip into the scrap pile. “Shall I find something else more pleasing to ventilate?” She turned her chin up at him, goading him to rebuke her.

Nate straightened his back and clenched his teeth, his eyes barely concealing the revulsion aimed at her.

“Very good, soldier-boy.” She headed for the door, making sure to step on the syringer laying on the floor, bending the barrel to a painful angle. The door opened on her command. She gestured grandly for Nate to enter.

“After you, _General_ …”

To Nate it looked like the black gate of hell. He walked stiffly through, leaving Codsworth to be collected for scrap.


	2. It's a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting down to brass tacks... why did Nate come to Nuka-World?

 

[My website](https://antiquechampagne.weebly.com/)

Stepping through, Nate was surrounded by raiders. All of them watched him like jackals waiting to pounce. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled with an immediate sense of danger, the only thing holding them back from tearing him apart stood before him, climbing out of her massive power armor.

“Gage, take this back to Fizztop, will ya?”

Gage eyed the outsider suspiciously. “Are you sure boss?”

“Did I stutter?” She leaned in a bit closer to him. “Besides…you’re the only one I trust not to scratch the paint!” As she strode towards the exit, she glanced back at Nate. This was the first chance he really had to take a good look at the ghoul. She still had some of her blond hair left, but most has either been lost to ghoulification or shaved off. What was left lay in a long strip down the center of her head, The ends dyed blood red. She wore a bright red and white Nuka-World jumpsuit with “Maintenance” embroidered in black on the chest. “You coming? You might not want to stray too far… These guys tend to misbehave when someone isn’t watching them too closely.”

Emerging into a wide-open courtyard, a strange wave of nostalgia passed over Nate. He had always wanted to bring Shaun here someday, back before the war tore his carefully crafted future away. Even after all these centuries, the sight of the once grand of the theme park remained inspiring. Blinking lights, cartoonish colors and happy painted smiles were plastered everywhere, decaying and perverted by years of neglect and vandalism. Slaves scuttled back and forth, dressed in rags and wearing heavy metal collars, the explosives strapped to their necks were blinking dangerously.

A woman with a metal mask made of metal straps skipped up to the Nate’s side.

“He sure is a pretty one, isn’t he?” She pinched Nate’s cheek, a creepily affectionate gesture from a stranger. Her sweet thick southern accent a perplexing and seemingly out of place in this den of killers.

“Dixie, hun, can you go and make sure Cappy’s Corner is cleared out. I need a nice quiet place to talk to our guest.”

“Sure thing.” She swung an arm around Nate’s neck, causing him to defensively stiffen. Dixie leaned in close and half whispered into his ear. “The Boss must be sweet on you, getting the star treatment and all… don’t go raising no cane while I’m off. You won’t live long enough to regret it.” Through his vault suit, he felt the tip of sharp weapon press lightly against his ribs to drive her point home. She whistled cheerfully as she skipped off.

“She’s such a peach.” Liz smirked, her sinewy lips drawing dryly against each other.

“I’m sure…” Nate was less than enthralled with the woman. He watched the shuttered vendor stalls and defunct parlor games, catching movement here and there out of the corner of his eye.

Liz noticed his diverted attention. “Yeah, don’t think for a moment you aren’t being watched.”

“Is that why you haven’t taken away my other side arm?” He retorted.

Liz nodded. “And your pair of boot knives either. I’m more concerned about that shiny Pip-boy on your wrist. Luckily, I’ve set up an interference shield around the whole park. You aren’t calling for back-up any time soon, General.”

Nate tried to mask his surprise at this new information by being suitably impressed by her tactical forethought. He wasn’t expecting to be cut off so completely from any form of rescue. He started recalculating as they walked.

Just then, something foul wafted through the air, wrinkling Nate’s nose. It reminded Nate of the stink from the zoo during the hot hazy summer days of his youth. They walk passed a bright red arch, the plywood reinforced façade adorned with wildly colored animals spray-painted haphazardly. Several similarly bizarrely dressed raiders lounged out front, barking and baying at him. They sported eye-searing neon clothes, trussed up with helmets and amour crafted to resemble various animals. The whole effect reminded Nate of the animals found on a toddler’s birthday cake.

The Overboss inclined her head slightly towards Nate, quietly instructing him that too much direct eye contact would be seen as a challenge to a Pack member. Nate took the hint, and tried to look straight ahead until they reached the aforementioned _Cappy’s Café_.

Dixie stood outside, leisurely leaning against one of the red tiled columns holding up the crumbling entrance, drinking a Nuka-Cola Orange.

“Everyone’s skedaddled, Boss.”

“Make sure there are no one interrupts us, hun.” Liz instructed.

Dixie nodded as the continued to drain her soda. Liz held the door open for Nate to head inside. Sure as Dixie said, the small café-turned-bar was empty. Liz sat, straddling the only chair at her chosen table, forcing Nate to scramble to find one of his own. He returned to see her studying him coolly over a blue glowing bottle Nuka-Quantum. A plain Nuka-Cola was on the table opposite her.

Slowly she put the bottle down as he sat. “So… prove to me that you are really the Nate I knew from all those years ago, and not some clever fake.”

“Sit and deliver, eh?” Nate straightened his shoulders. “Your full name is Elizabeth Rosa. You lived across the street from Nora and I. Your husband died and left you alone with your son, Louis. I helped you figure out the tricky timing on that old cherry red Corvega convertible you were restoring with him.” He narrowed his eyes a bit. “Shame you killed Codsworth. I remember you really liking the lemonade he used to serve at the summer block parties.”

Liz sat back and huffed. “You shouldn’t get so attached to _things_. Lemons haven’t existed for centuries now. But here _you_ are… playing army-men again. But it _is_ you.” Her eternally bloodshot green eyes locked onto his. “How?”

Nate shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn’t prepared for _this_ kind of interrogation. “Surely you’ve heard of the kind of stuff Vault-Tek pulled, right?” Liz nodded. Vaut-Tek’s ‘scientific’ fuckery with their resident’s lives was well known. “Well, Vault 111 was no different… only we were treated to a deep freeze treatment. They kept us on ice, cryogenically frozen, like a freezer full of frozen TV-diners.”

“So, where is the rest of the old neighborhood popsicles?”

“Dead.” Nate said flatly. “There was a malfunction. I was the only one who ever walked out of there.” Nate steeled his mind as it raced across the painful memories of waking up from cryo-sleep. She didn’t need to know there had been one other person to make it to the outside world… that his infant son Shaun had been ripped from his dead wife’s arms by Institute agents as he watched helplessly trapped in a pod. Liz also didn’t need to know that Shaun had grown up to become the leader of the same morally corrupt organization, which he had taken down a year before.

Liz read the discomfort on his face and softened a bit at the thought of Nora and Shaun. She had known them, after all. “I’m sorry to hear that… for what it is worth. War doesn’t give two shits about family.” Liz hid a distant look by downing the rest of her soda. She thumped the empty bottle down on the table.

“Now… down to brass tacks, shall we?” She focused on the man before her. “What exactly are you proposing? Why exactly would I help the Minute Men, of all people, take on the Brotherhood of Steel?”

“Because they threaten Nuka-World the same way they threaten the rest of the Commonwealth. There is a ton of pre-war tech here, whispers of unique military robots and weapon systems. Some of the traders talk of the buildings here being powered by a functional power plant. News like that makes the rounds. From the little bit I have seen so far, it looks like there might even be more.” Nate leaned his elbows on the table. “And we all know how the Brotherhood feels about those they deem degenerates. They wouldn’t think twice about stomping out a nest of raiders scum and their zombie leader.”

Liz narrowed her eyes. She lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t say the z-word around here… it makes Dixie… _extra_ stabby.” Nate had a feeling it wasn’t Dixie she was talking about.

Liz sat back. “We can handle ourselves just fine if they bring the fight to us. What makes you think we need you?”

Nate continued. “Two reasons. First, I think you underestimate the breadth of firepower the Brotherhood has. With the Institute destroyed, they are setting their sights on the rest of the Commonwealth. It’s not just zealots in power armor wielding Gatling lasers you’ll have to worry about. Remember those news leaks before the bombs, about the government developing a giant robot?”

Liz furrowed her pocked brow, digging through her buried memories. “The one that was supposed to be in the liberation of Anchorage? There wasn’t any evidence of it’s existence, I thought.”

“I infiltrated the Brotherhood for a while… they have it. Transported the thing in pieces from Washington. Nothing is going in the Commonwealth is going to be able to stop it once it is fully operational.”

The Overboss sat silently, looking unconvinced. Inoperable prewar abandoned robots were too farfetched of a problem for her to worry about.

“Secondly, you’ve tipped your hand trying to get a foothold in the Commonwealth. Threatening farms. Trying to set up outposts. My bet is you don’t have enough food to feed your growing ‘family’ here.” Nate sat back and crossed his arms. “How has that been going for you?”

That rankled her, Nate could tell from the way she ground her teeth. He was happy he remember her tell from when they used to play cards at the Able’s place, back when she had skin. He knew exactly how well her attempts as expansion were going… the Minutemen beating them back at every turn, defending the settlers they tried to put the squeeze on and caravan routes they tried to ambush.

“But… if we came to some kind of agreement. One where your raiders stays put, inside the bounds of Nuka-World, and help push the Brotherhood out of the Commonwealth.”

“That’s your pitch? We get nothing out of that deal. No dice.” She idly played with a bottle cap with her fingers.

“Let me finish. Help us with the Brotherhood, stay in Nuka-World… and I can make sure your little slice of paradise is supplied with plenty of food. Enough that you won’t ever need to stick your nose out of your rosy red gates.”

“And you think we are just going to sit here with our thumbs up our asses, eating your food and getting fat?”

“No, but I can open up avenues to you that you would never be able to access before… things like chem trade routes that can have you rolling in caps and, with the Gunners gutted, enough blood to keep the throngs happy. You already have a small trade system in place. With the right help you can build upon it!”

Liz laughed, her hoarse voice echoing off the empty café walls. “You gotta be fucking crazy, thinking you can get these guys to go legit.” She banged her fist on the table.

Nate coolly doubled down. “ _I’m_ not. _You_ are. You are if you want this little experiment here to survive. I’ve learned a thing or two about keeping a growing population afloat… what you have here, all these people, this isn’t sustainable. You know it’s not. That’s why you have been trying to grow beyond your borders.”

An uncomfortable silence passed between them as they locked gazes across the table. A table that seemed excessively small at that moment.

The standoff broke as the door creaked open. The Overboss had to stop herself from rolling her eyes as she saw who it was.

“Fuck off, Gage. Didn’t you get the memo? I’m busy.” Liz growled, not taking her eyes off Nate.

“I know Boss. I just wanted to let you know Damion’s gang is back.” Liz turned her head to half-face him. “ _They bagged her_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not doing a lot of hand holding with this fic. I just want to get it out there!


	3. New Acquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate gets a closer look at raider culture. Liz welcomes home a new addition to the Pack's personal petting zoo.

Nate was quickly reminded to keep his mouth shut and not touch anything before they entered the headquarters for the gang called the Pack. If Nate had though the Pack’s lair smelled ripe from the outside, standing inside the old amphitheater what a whole different kettle of fish, albeit one that had been left out in the summer sun for a few weeks. Gage had grumbled at the idea an outsider be allowed into a gang’s headquarters, but the Overboss’s word was law. It appeared to him as if Liz had completely forgotten their little discussion in the café and was now utterly focused on the task at hand. A task Nate didn’t completely understand.

Once inside, Liz made a beeline past the rows of large cages, each holding creatures Nate had never seen before anywhere in the Commonwealth, including a two-headed gazelle. The old theater stage, framed with tattered red curtains, now hosted a fighting cage. Inside the bars, a slave was trying her best to beat off a pair of attacking mongrels.

Distracted by the fight, Nate almost ran into a free-roaming silverback gorilla. It huffed and thumped a meaty fist on its chest. He shied away, making sure to follow Liz’s shadow more carefully. They made their way into the backstage area, which was now filled with mattresses and cots. A mutant hound slept in the corner, thumping its leg against the concrete wall as it chased some imaginary prey.

Down in the bowels, Liz caught the attention of a musclebound raider with red hair leaning against a wall. His face, covered with colorful stripes, did little to camouflage his matching fiery handle bar mustache and goatee.

“Mason, where is she?” the Overseer anxiously asked.

“Right over here.” Mason glowered down at Nate momentarily before returning his attention to Liz. “Good thing you had the grunts put in this new pen down here. I don’t think she’d fit anywhere else.”

They walked deeper into the compound. Nate slowly realized that everything around them fell into silence. No one talked. Even the water condensing on the decrepit pipes seemed to stop their dripping. They neared what appeared to be a huge hulking metal wall. Nate quickly realized it was actually a gigantic door securing an equally large cell. Four Pack members stood guard, each heavily armored and holding gaudily painted mini-guns at the ready. No one was within 5 feet of the cage. Nate took that as his clue to stay back as well.

Liz drew closer, her eyes nearly closed, her head cocked to the side. Nate strained, but he could hear the low ominous rumble of something large breathing just beyond the door. Liz slid open a small observation hatch.

Her jaw dropped. “My god…” she said under her breath, touching her open palm to her chest. “She’s beautiful.”

Nate strained to see beyond the Overboss’s head, which blocked most of the view of what lay beyond. Quickly and quietly, Liz grabbed Nate’s arm, pulling him towards the door.

“General…” she whispered into his ear. “You have no idea what makes Nuka-World so special.”

Twisting in her grip, he ended up pressing his nose to the cold thick bars. At first, Nate could only make out a mass of scales and horns, all of which was illuminated by some strange blue light. The seconds ticked by until he finally realized what he was really looking at. Inches from his face lay a gigantic deadly beast. It was common enough in the irradiated wastelands of the Commonwealth… but this one pulsed with a cold and alien blue glow.

\---

Liz pulled the group back into the previous room, not wanting to wake the sleeping giant.

“Holy fuck, Mason. Your guys got her!” Delight lit up the Overboss’s face. “Did they get to use Lizzie’s new grenade things?”

“Yeah, Boss. From what I hear, it look four of those pheromone chem-bombs to slow her down. They still had quite the fight, though.” Mason wore a stoic mask, but a small scowl tugged at the edges of his mouth. Liz was so excited, she didn’t notice.

“What exactly was that?” Nate asked.

“That is a _Quantum_ deathclaw.” Liz said reverently, gazing lovingly at the creature beyond the bars. “And they bagged the matriarch, from what I can see. Magnificent.” She thought for a moment. “Make sure you reinforce those hinges and double check all the welds. If you can do it before she wakes up, even better.”

“Yes, Boss,” answered Gage. He snapped his fingers at a few nearby men to get on it.

“What the hell are you going to do with it?” Nate looked worried, like being just one room away was too close for his tastes.

Liz waved her finger in front of her lips. “Ahh ah ah!” she scolded. “I can’t go telling you all our secrets, now can I?” She turned back to Mason. “Where is Damion? I have to congratulate that tough son-of-a-bitch!”

Mason’s scowl deepened as he motioned for her to follow. They emerged back outside and headed down a side alley to the ramshackle Pack infirmary. In an alcove-turned-hospital room lay a body on a gurney, his face obscured by a horned yellow gas mask covered in blood. Everything from his chest down was covered with a gore soaked blanket.

As Liz approached, a woman wearing rags and a slave collar backed away from the man’s side. She wordlessly shook her head.

Liz somberly walked up to Damion. Once he saw the Overboss, the prone man struggled to rise, grunting with the effort.

Liz gently pushed him back down onto the cot. “You gotta be stoned out of your gourd to try and get up in the state you’re in.” Liz was silently thankful the gaggle of gawkers had hung back, giving the dying man some space. “You did a hell of a job, Damion. You bagged her. Ain’t no one going to forget that.”

The man mumbled something unintelligible. Liz shook her head in confusion. She wasn’t sure if it was the mask or the drugs garbling his words. He tried again, and failed. In frustration, he ripped his mask off. His gaunt features stretched thin against his skull, a grim visage of what was set in his future. Liz leaned in.

Straining, he managed, “Boss. Some bastard took my weapon,” Blood sputtering on his lips.

Liz’s eyes glazed over as she straightened her spine, her anger flaring momentarily. “Then you’ll have mine.” She unstrapped her combat knife from its sheath on her belt, holding it out to him. Damion wrapped his shaky fingers around hers, guiding the blade over his chest.

The two held each other’s gaze, their jaws set. A mutual understanding passed through their locked eyes.

Suddenly, a hoarse whoop erupted from Damion’s frame, guttural and rattling in his chest. Liz returned it, throaty and coarse. Mason followed, then Gage. A chorus of whoops and hoots echoed, spreading like a wave through the compound. The calls continued as Damion centered the blade over his heart, straining to place his other hand to steady it.

Liz, her eyes still locked on his, used her own hand to plunge the blade in as Damion let out one last raucous cry. The amphitheater fell silent.

Slowly, Liz turned her head, her eyes burning with rage. Coolly, she issued an order.

“Bring me the bastard that disarmed their own brother.”

People scrambled wildly, and within minutes, a man was dragged before her. A few fresh bruises bloomed on his red cheeks.

“You took this man’s weapon.” Liz’s words dripped with ire. “To disarm a fellow raider, that’s against the rules.”

“He... I… He was going to kill himself!” he stammered.

“I wonder why?” the Overboss pulled back the blood soaked sheet, revealing a shredded mess of flesh and entrails where Damion’s abdominal cavity had been. The man heaved at the sight, along with a few others in the vicinity.

Liz gave them a minute to recover before glaring down at the cowering offender. “Take his weapons,” she ordered. The two captors stripped his of his arms.

The man blubbered, trying to apologize for this misdeed.

“For Christ’s sake, shut up!” she barked. Here, _she_ was the judge and jury. The man fell silent. “You can still be of some use, though. Maybe you can redeem yourself.” The Overboss turned to the guards that held his arms. “Make sure our new acquisition downstairs has a proper meal once she wakes up.” The man’s legs began to waver. “Small bites first, start with his feet. We don’t want to give her indigestion.” The prisoner collapsed into a heap, sobbing, before he was dragged away.

Liz now turned her attention to Mason and Gage, who had gathered close. “We’ll have a proper sendoff tonight for Damion in the main square. Make sure everybody knows. Every faction is invited, so play nice. Damion deserves the respect of everyone in Nuka-World.”

Next, she addressed Nate. “I’ve got a funeral to organize, so our little parley is going to have to wait. Feel free to look around, but stay in Nuka-Town. You’ve only seen a fraction of what Nuka-World can throw at you. I don’t need to have the General of the Minutemen getting eaten by some stray cricket while I plan a BBQ. Oh, and I’m going to insist that you attend as a show of goodwill. Participation is mandatory. See you at the pyre.”

Nate frowned. “It’s a date, then.”


	4. Eulogy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate witnesses a particularly raucous funeral.

Nate passed the hours entertaining himself by exploring Nuka-Town USA. Just about everyone either avoided him or glowered as he passed. When he wandered into a nearly completely restored and functional arcade, he balked. Fritsch, the man operating the place, seemed friendly enough. Nate found he wasted an hour or two rambling around in a wave of nostalgia, despite himself. 

After turning in a handful of tickets for a frog magnet, Nate walked into the busy market. He found the enclosed trading area depressing, filled with traders strapped with bomb collars forced to hawk their wares in rags. Few would talk with him, other than to show him their stalls, their eyes averted to the ground. He figured the raiders with rifles on the catwalks above them helped to seal their lips. He approached the slave that had been ministering to the dying raider when she caught his eye, nodding slightly to him. When he walked to her station, her voice was hushed low.

“Name’s Mackenzie. I’m the closest thing to a doctor we have around here. You’re that Minuteman General guy, aren’t you? ” A raider dressed in a paisley suit covered in armor walked by. Her knuckles went white as she gripped her clipboard, her eyes staring hard at the paper in front of her. “You need any supplies?”

“Not yet. But hey, can you tell me anything about that Damion guy and how he got that deathclaw back here in one piece? If you can…”

Mackenzie grimaced. “Ain’t no such thing as patient/doctor privilege around here, plus the guy’s dust anyway. Not sure what there is to tell. Damion and his crew have been on that beast’s tail for a while. Took ’em some time to figure out where they were nesting. Killed a few of the babies who they spooked. Took out, like, half his team that way.” She rubbed her forearm absently. “They had no way of getting into the nest without being slaughtered, but couldn’t lure her out. The Overboss wanted her bad, though.”

“Why?”

The doctor shrugged. “Who the fuck knows. Not like anyone could tame one of those monsters. Lizzy - she’s the Operators’ top chem chef - she’s been trying to come up with some kind of cocktail to pacify folks, en masse. Guess she figured if it works on a deathclaw, it should work on a settlement full of people, right?” She huffed. “Well, it didn’t work, not all the way. Damion got himself gutted in the process. They drug him all the way back here, with an unconscious deathclaw in tow.”

She hid her mouth with her clipboard, lowering her eyes and volume of her voice. “Hope the damn thing guts her, too.”

She was taking quite the risk. Nate followed her lead.

“Well, now that you mention that, I think I might have pulled something in my shoulder when I was fighting my way in here. Could you take a look at it?”

Mackenzie nodded. “That’ll be 15 caps.” She guided him to a chair. After removing his left pauldron, she started to feel around and maneuver the joint, affording her the chance to whisper into Nate’s ear.

“Not happy with upper management around here?” Nate prompted.

“A lot of us are sick of the accessories.” She adjusted her collar. “With the population growing, those on the lower rungs have been bearing the brunt of the pains.” She stretched his arm over his head while pushing his shoulder down. “Your sudden appearance has been giving a few of us hope there might be a bit of a shakeup soon.”

They both paused at the sound of boots scraping across the catwalk above their heads. Nate even gave out an “Ooof” for good measure as Mackenzie torqued his joint.

Once the raider had moved away, Nate continued. “Shakeup?  Yes. Soon? Don’t know.”

Mackenzie nodded. Returning to normal volume, she issued him a clean bill of health and a recommendation to put a hot compress on his shoulder should act up again.

After being verbally accosted by a walking cartoon soda bottle, Nate retired to a corner in the courtyard outside the Cola-Cars area, watching the growing mountain of wood being gathered for the pyre. The crowd started to gather as the sun neared the horizon, a mix of every different kind of raider Nate had seen around Nuka-World, though the majority appeared to be from the Pack. It appeared as if some had already started the party, with drunken antics causing bursts of laughter or cursing.

Nate was starting to get an idea the social strata of raider society. Slaves were decisively on the bottom, followed by raider grunts. Above them were something akin to officers or managers, those who kept the lower ranks in line. Over them were the heads of the individual gangs. On top of it all, with undisputed power over the whole chain, was the matriarch: Liz. Somehow, they had developed their own brutal customs and code of ethics, more elaborate than he saw in the misfit operations normally roaming in the Commonwealth. Nuka-World raiders had more of a society in place than Nate had realized. It was almost like a huge dysfunctional family.

The courtyard hushed as the Overboss entered, followed by her entourage. The burly leader of the Pack carried a shrouded body on a crude stretcher with the help of Gage. The two of them easily hoisted their cargo on top of the pile, stretcher and all.

Liz took her place at the top of the stairs leading to the Cola-Cars Arena, making the area into an impromptu stage. Behind her stood a line of men and women. Nate guessed they were the various heads of the raider factions, plus a few hangers-on. He recognized Daisy, Gage and the Pack leader, Mason, but the rest were unknown to him.

With a single slash of her hand, Liz silenced the crowd. Every eye, no matter how bloodshot, was glued to her. She took a swig from a bottle before starting.

“I bet there are some of you out there wondering why you are standing here. Why are you waiting for party to start? Why should we be giving two shits about this corpse instead of tossing it in the pile outside the walls like the rest of those other dead fuck-ups?”

Several murmurs echoed through the throng of raiders.

“’Cause Damion bagged BIG MAMA!” She pointed to the body. “That’s why! The biggest, nastiest Quantum-claw in all of Nuka-World! None of you shits managed to pull it off, and he died doing it for _us_! If any of you want the royal treatment when you kick it, you fuckers had better start aiming higher!” She held the bottle up in front of her, the rag stuffed in the neck waving gently in the wind. “But for tonight, I want every last one of you to get fucking wasted! Bang the drums and howl till your lungs bleed! I want every slack-jawed farmer in the whole Commonwealth to think we are marching to their front door!”

With that, she lit the rag. With a deafening wail, the Overboss lobbed the Molotov cocktail at the pyre. It ignited with a fiery splash.

Out of the corners of the courtyard, booming drums beat the crowd into a frenzy, echoing the Boss’s howl. The raucous bacchanal continued as crates of booze and drugs appeared. Grilled carcasses were dragged through the crowd on modified funnel cake carts as the pyre slowly ate away at the corpse atop it.

Nate grabbed a chunk of unidentifiable meat, before trying to maneuver himself through the crowd towards the steps where the Overboss reclined on a toppled concrete post, an inhaler in hand. He could see her pointing and talking to the people around her. A group of metal masked raiders seemed to materialize before him, blocking his path. By the time he made his way around them, she had slipped away.

“Don’t worry, General!” Dixie said cheerfully, seeing him searching the crowd. She pushed a metal box into his palm. “The Boss wanted to make sure you had a good time, too. Enjoy, hun!” Looking down, Nate couldn’t help but notice that the tin didn’t have a label.

“Mandatory, right?”

Dixie nodded. Nate could barely see her eerie smile under her mask. “Aren’t you precious?! Of course it is!”

___

Liz sat in near darkness, watching the beast through the narrow slits of the bars as it paced. With hardly any lights on, the blue glow emanating from beneath its skin danced across her face. Liz actually preferred the low light, her bloodshot eyes more suited to darkness than the blaring bright sun.

 _Maybe in another 50 years, I’ll be forced to wear glasses!_ She thought. _But I’ve made it more than two centuries without them. Take that, AARP!_

She silently followed the Quantum-claw’s agitated frame, waiting for the deep inhalation of breath into its cavernous lungs. A moment before it released a thunderous bellow, she covered her ears, standing unmoving as the door buffered the blast of sound. The beast rushed the door, slamming its massive weight against the steel, its dagger-like claws raking the surface, searching for some purchase to rip the barrier to shreds. Occasionally, it would inch towards the bars, sniffing the air carefully before retreating back into the shadows.

In one hand, she held a bloody bowl. The other held onto a talisman tied around her neck. It had been over a year since she had last worn it, but she had made the decision it would never leave her neck again. Cautiously stepping forward, she started to make a throaty hum, low and guttural. She doubted a normal human could make such a noise. Pulling a bisected hand from the bowl, she tossed it through a gap in the bars. A large glowing blue eye peered at her, hesitating, before the creature threw itself at the door again, howling wildly.

Liz heard footsteps behind her.

“You okay, Boss?” Mason asked between outbursts.

Liz pulled Mason into another room, away from the wailing. “The party not up to your standards?” he asked.

She put the bowl down on a table, whipping her hand on a nearby rag – she’s probably been down here for probably an hour or two, now that she thought about it.

“The party is fine, but there’s no rest for the wicked. I’ve got shit to do… but there are a few spots along the floor where she can get the tip of her claws. She’s going to keep clawing those. In a few days she’ll be remodeling the room for you if you’re not careful. Fix it.”

Mason nodded.

She idly massaged her knuckles. “The General causing any problems?”

“Nah. He fell asleep with the mutie hound after popping a couple of those candies Dixie passed him. The guy’s a lightweight.”

Liz snorted. Dixie had passed him an old box of prewar breath mints. It was amazing what you could make people believe with just a little suggestion. “I’ve heard he pals around with a mutant sometimes. Figures he would cuddle up with one here too.” She started to head out the door. “Tell Gage and Dixie I’m heading to Kiddie Kingdom. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

Mason nodded. “Sure thing, Boss. Don’t party too hard over there.”

Liz smiled. “A gal’s gotta go a little feral sometimes, Mason… or else life just isn’t as much fun!”


	5. Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz needs to talk things over with a friend and reconnect with family.

Liz made her way to Kiddie Kingdom slowly, her mind churning over the day’s developments. So many things to consider and weigh against each other. She knew the threat the Brotherhood posed. It was very much real and nearly at their doorstep but… the Minutemen were equally dangerous. Could Nuka-World take them both on if it came down to it?

Something red sticking out of a trash heap caught her eye. Bending down, she plucked a rusted Nuka-Cola truck toy from the refuse. Stuffing it into a pocket, she made her way to the lollypop-themed entrance to the children’s park.

“Any problems? Requests?” she asked the two bored guards standing outside the barricades.

A woman nodded, colorful feathers pasted resplendently to the pale pig-nosed mask covering most of her head. “No, Boss. The ghouls have been pretty quiet lately. Nothing’s come in or out.”

Liz reached into a pocket, pulled out a blue bottle, and tossed it to her. “Have yourself a little break, on me.”

The woman turned the bottle over. “Day Tripper?!” A greedy smile glowed on her face. “No shit! Thanks, Boss!” She turned to her compatriot, grabbing his shoulder. “Come on!” The two guards headed off in the direction of the nearby dilapidated restrooms.

Past the barricades, Liz felt a familiar buzz on her skin. A buzz humans would be smart to avoid. Kiddie Kingdom had a network of still-functional sprinklers. These misters used to cool the prewar patrons on oppressive summer days, but now they spread a steady mist of deadly radioactivity through the air. Not that this bothered the current residents of the park.

“Grraaaagh,” guttered a slack-jawed ghoul standing on a bench, turning to face Liz. Its clothes were in tatters around its waist, its face grotesquely covered with bright patches of flaking make-up.

Liz waved. “Good evening, Mark. Is Oswald in the Castle?”

“Gwwaa,” Mark managed to shrug.

Liz made her way past the eerily silent carnival rides and empty midway to the focal piece of the park, a huge medieval fantasy-styled theater named King Cola’s Castle. Every so often a feral ghoul would notice her, snarling or howling at something unfamiliar. Each soon turn away uninterested, recognizing her as one of their own.

She found Oswald in the courtyard of the castle, fussing over a feral friend, as usual. Oswald stood out among the ghouls in Kiddie Kingdom. Not only did he wear a stately tuxedo costume complete with top hat (he was a professional magician, after all,) but also he had yet to turn feral, his mental faculties still sharp as a tack. Another thing that made Oswald unique was that he had a literal glow about him, as if some personal nuclear reactor powered him deep inside.

As soon as Oswald spotted Liz, he waved her over. She smiled as she crossed to him.

“Hello Liz! You are just the person I needed to see today.” His voice was gruff and gravelly like that of most ghouls. “Jerry here, I just can’t convince him to wear his kit today.” In his gloved hands, he held a scruffy, curly clown wig. “I put it on him, but after a few minutes, he just rips it off again. I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to wear it… God knows I wouldn’t be caught dead in this thing!” Liz stifled a laugh.

Oswald frowned. “I don’t think that’s it. I can put it on him just fine. He just keep taking it off.”

He handed the wig to Liz. Liz squatted down to look at the Jerry, who stood hunched over and pawing at the ground, then back to the wig.

“Hey Jerry, come here please?” she asked calmly. The feral ghoul meandered over to her on all fours, almost skittish, like a wild animal. She put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. Liz noticed he wasn’t anxious at her touch, but tracked the wig.

Liz pursed her lips in thought while running her fingers through the plastic fibers that stubbornly clung to the cap. Flipping it over, she found the culprit. Plucking a wooden sliver out, she held the offender out for Oswald to see.

“Oh Jerry… I’m so sorry. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Liz gave the wig back to Oswald. “I’ll leave that part to the professionals.” She stood up. “Where’s Louis?”

“Last time I saw him, he was watching the Nuka Racers by the carousel.”

“How’s he doing?” Liz’s brow furrowed.

“The same. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. It’s been a while since your last visit.”

“I know.” Liz sighed.

She made her way around to the carousel. On the grass stood a small ghoul with a threadbare striped shirt and red baseball cap staring at the nearby tracks near a pile of toys. She hesitated as she retrieved the toy truck from her pocket, placing it on the ground near the dozen other toy cars and trucks, each smashed and scattered about.

“Hey, honey. Mommy brought you a new toy.”

Just then, a pair of cars came racing along the railway track, clattering loudly on their endless loop around the park. The noise broke the boy out of his trance. He hissed and raced after the duo for a few steps before losing interest and returning to his spot.

“Louis… Mommy’s sorry she hasn’t been around much.” Liz sat on the ground. “There is a lot going on right now at work.” Her words sounded hollow, fake to her, but it might be something that would be familiar to her son. Louis continued stare down at the tracks, unmoved by this mother’s words. “Mr. Oswald has been taking good care of you, hasn’t he? No bad people trying to chase or hurt us.”

Liz reached out, picked up the new truck, and held it out to him.

She really wished she could come more often, but had to be careful with her visits. Someone might come to suspect something more than just her letting her hair down with a local. She had worked so hard to find somewhere safe for her son; there was no way she was going to screw that up now. Even if that meant spending more time than she would like away from Louis. He probably didn’t even notice. At least he was safe. No random human could find him in here. Oswald made sure of that.

Slowly, Louis took a few steps towards his mother before taking the toy. As he did, she held his hand tenderly.

“Do you want to lay down for a bit? I bet you are tired from chasing those cars around all day.”

The boy stood, eye vacant, his breath rattling in his chest for several long seconds before he allowed her to lower him into her lap. She held him as he tried to pull the wheels of the truck with his teeth, gently rocking him until he fell asleep.

A half an hour later, she returned to the ramshackle castle with her boy in her arms. Oswald smiled warmly, opening the door that lead to a room with a bed. After placing him down, they both retired to the apartment in one of the towers.

“He hasn’t slept properly in a few weeks,” Oswald said as he pulled a couple of Nuka-Colas out of the fridge.

“You mean since the last time I was here.” Liz leaned against the back of the couch.

Oswald sadly nodded as he popped off the cap and handed her a bottle.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been back. Is there anything you need? Food? Paint? The guards say they haven’t received any requests in a while…”

“We’re fine. If I need anything, I’ll let you know. That is the agreement, right? But…” He took a swig. “Why are you really here? I wasn’t expecting you for another week or so.”

The both moved to sit on the couch. Liz looked away as she sat down. “Well…” she tried to avoid his question, but she didn’t have the energy. His glowing green eyes drilled into her. “Fine.” Some soda cleared her palate. “You remember that pipe dream I told you about?”

Oswald’s brow arched. “That crazy one involving catching Quantum deathclaw?”

“Yeah... well, we bagged one.” Oswald’s jaw dropped. “A big one. Probably the biggest one in Nuka-World. I think we got the matriarch.”

“Really? That explains all that noise coming from Nuka-Town.” Liz nodded. “Where in the world are you holding her?”

“Under the Bradberton amphitheater.” Liz could see Oswald start to shake his head. “Now hold on. I had the guys build a custom cage for her. Strong as Fort Knox. She ain’t getting out.”

“She better not! She’s going to eat all of you for breakfast, lunch and dinner if she does. You really think that little trinket is going to save you if she gets out?”

He poked at the talisman hanging from Liz’s neck. She swatted his hand away.

“Hey, knock it off! Big Mama isn’t going anywhere.” She looked critically at the talisman, a small claw from a young deathclaw decorated with crude scrollwork, capped with a metal clasp.

“Oh, it’s got a name? Are you going to keep it in a doghouse and feed it treats? You think you’re going to train it to fetch your slippers?”

“Shut up!” Liz couldn’t help but snicker. She had to admit to herself that part sounded insane… but who said it was impossible to tame a deathclaw?

After a minute, Oswald looked at her with a serious look in his eyes. “The deathclaw thing, as neat as that might be, isn’t all that urgent.” He turned to face her right on. “What’s really on your mind?” He had quite the knack for reading her. Guess that was why she always came here when she needed to talk.

“Turning it up to the third degree, eh? Fine. I need some unbiased feedback.” Oswald settled back on the cushions. “Have you been keeping up with those newspapers I’ve left for you? Yeah… well, you know who the Minutemen are then.” Oswald nodded. “Guess who walked through the Gauntlet? The fucking General of the whole outfit.”

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah. We’ve been butting heads with those guys every time we try to expand out into the Commonwealth. And here he waltzes in right through the doors!”

“His head’s on a spike over the gate now, I suppose.” Oswald’s obvious distaste for the violence soured his features. Liz found it a bit endearing after 200 years of hard living.

“Actually… not quite. Seems he wanted to parley.” She could see Oswald starting to stew over this new information. “Upshot: Nate and his band of merry men will leave us alone in Nuka-World AND give us access to some lucrative trade routes… in exchange for additional firepower against the Brotherhood of Steel. Not too bad of a deal there, but there is a catch. He wants us to go legit too.”

Oswald thought for a moment. “No more raiders in Nuka-World,” he said succinctly.

The both sat in silence, sipping their soda.

After a while, Oswald ventured, “Can you even manage that? Do you have that much power over them?”

Liz rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure, but I have some ideas.”

Oswald’s eyes pierced her own. “Do _you_ want to?”

 _That_ question gave Liz pause. She had been a raider for centuries out of pure necessity. She cultivated and honed herself into a viciously sharp blade, mostly through sheer power of will. After watching all her friends and family slowly ghoulify and lose their minds, she nearly lost it herself. She only kept herself together in those years to keep Louis safe. Cruelty was the only currency the Commonwealth dealt in.

But…

Nuka-World was busting at the seams. The factions had flourished under her leadership, filling Nuka Town and nearly all the surrounding parks. Only Kiddie Kingdom was left untouched, a haven for her son. They critically needed food and supplies, and stable ones at that. Shaking down farms and raiding caravans just wasn’t cutting it anymore.

She knew about Nate’s exploits, which went beyond his defeat of the Commonwealth’s bogyman, The Institute. He treated ghouls, freed synths and even some mutants as people, even palling around with a few. His network of settlements was changing the landscape of the Commonwealth. The one thing he seemed to give no quarter to was raiders, but he had paused to try to broker a deal with her. That meant Nuka-World must be sizable enough that he thought they could give his forces trouble.

“The fact is, the Brotherhood could strip everything here for tech trinkets if they wanted. It’s a real possibility… and we need to solve our resource problem. We’ve grown too big. Something needs to give.”

“Can you do what needs to be done?”

Liz thought, ruminating on the question. Partial ideas started to crystalize in her mind, focusing her, showing her exactly where she could exert pressure and influence, turning the gangs to her will. She smiled and nodded.

“I think I can.” She finished the bottle. “But… if it doesn’t work, you need to have a plan. Nate has set up ghoul settlements, so I think you could probably work with him. The Brotherhood has no love for ghouls. I lose control of the gangs…”

She didn’t need to say anything further. The both knew what that would mean. Her rules would no longer apply.

Oswald shook his head resolutely. “We’re not leaving, Liz. This is our home.” Removing his top hat, he played with the brim. “It will be easier to hear any news from Rachel.” Oswald looked into his lap. Liz felt for him; he missed his girlfriend terribly. “Damn, I miss her. It’s been years since I’ve heard anything from her… and nothing about the cure.”

Liz put a comforting hand on Oswald’s paint-speckled shoulder. “I know. What would you do if… well… if Rachel never sent news? If she… didn’t come back?”

“I don’t want to think about it.” His fingers tapped nervously on his hat.

Liz frowned before putting on her best ‘buck up’ smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure we’ll hear from her soon. Just think what a cure for ghouls would mean.”

Oswald tried to smile back. “Yeah… I’m sure we will.”

They didn’t say anything for a long while. Eventually, Liz got up and gave Oswald’s shoulder another pat before saying good night. She silently made her way to the small bedroom that held her sleeping son. She nearly tripped on his baseball cap, which had tumbled to the floor.

 _Some things never change_ , she mused to herself, thinking of how hard it was to get Louis to clean his room back in Sanctuary Hills before the bombs fell.

Carefully, she picked it up and hung it from the corner post of the rickety bed. Pulling out a sleeping bag stashed in the corner, she soon fell asleep on the floor next to her son.


	6. Meeting Prep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wheels are starting to turn. Big changes are coming to Nuka-World.

Later the next morning, Liz slipped silently through her penthouse apartment perched high above Nuka-Town USA on top of Fizztop Mountain. The old restaurant made a spacious comfortable flat, better than any other place she had ever stayed in the Commonwealth over the years.

Peeking into the bedroom, Liz could see the silhouette of Dixie on top of the sheets. She slipped inside, making sure to knock three time in quick succession as she passed through the door. No need to startle Dixie. She’d been burned by that flame once before and had the scars to prove it. Luckily, her disfigured skin hid them pretty well.

Dixie stirred and turned over as Liz sat on the bed. Dixie’s shoulder-length blond hair was tussled, dried blood matting a few strands.

“Morning, killer,” Liz smiled. “Have fun last night?”

“O’course, Boss.” She propped herself sleepily up on her elbows. “You missed out on a lot of excitement. A real barn burner.”

Liz leaned in. “What was the body count?”

“Only 9 Pack, 4 Operators and 2 Disciples. Not too bad.”

Liz gently grabbed her face with one hand, caressing the line of Dixie’s chin with her thumb. “How many of those were yours?” Her other hand smoothed her mussed hair.

Dixie feigned guilt, looking down at her lap. “Good girls don’t stab and tell…”

Liz gave Dixie a rough kiss before playfully pushing her out of bed. “As much fun as a lazy morning would be, I have work to do. Could you please find Gage and tell him to get up here. Then scrape that General out from whatever gutter he ended up in. Send him over to the Café to wait for me.”

Dixie pouted as she dressed, finally strapping her helmet back on as she stood from the bed.

As the door to the elevator closed, Liz made her way to the massive kitchen. She frowned when she opened the refrigerator, seeing some open space on a few of the shelves. Even her sizeable personal hoard of food was starting to dwindle. She placed an open can of Cram on the counter-ready for the frying pan - making a mental note as she reached to the very back of the top shelf and extracted the last Salisbury Steak box. It’d probably be best to find another suitable hiding spot for her little treasure. She couldn’t have Dixie accidentally opening it when looking for a midnight snack.

From inside the carefully resealed box, Liz pulled out one of several corked test tubes. She held it up and swirled the cloudy brown liquid. All those failed attempts at netting the Quantum-claw matriarch had resulted in enough dead offspring to allow for the extraction of several compounds from their carcasses… including some very handy pheromones.

Liz removed her talisman, unhinging the claw from the housing. She uncorked the test tube, pouring a few priceless drops onto a wad of cloth stuffed inside. Returning the refreshed talisman to her neck, she concealed everything carefully back in the fridge.

After preparing a huge pan of scrambled Cram and eggs, she sat down to her breakfast in one of the booths that lined the large open dining room. After a while, Gage rose into view on the rickety wooden lift. Quickly he crossed over and stood before her.

“You needed me?” he asked.

Liz motioned for him to sit and he slid into the booth across from her. She absently offered him her half-eaten breakfast. He declined.

With a huge steaming chunk of meat on her bent fork, she pointed at him. “Do you trust me?”

“You drag me all the way up here to ask me that?! What kind of fucked up kind of question is that, Boss?” He crossed his arms defensively. “I brought you into this damn outfit.”

Liz’s eyes bore into him. Her words were now more loaded, staccato and viscous. “Do. You. Trust. Me?”

Seeing her demeanor change, and her other hand move towards the steak knife lying next to her plate, Gage quickly changed his tune.

“Jeez, Boss. You don’t have to ask it like that. Of course I do.” He pushed back into the stiff cushions of the bench. It looked as if he was trying to hide from her deadly gaze, but poorly. “Do you mind telling me what the hell all this’s about?”

She grabbed the knife and cut the Cram into a smaller bite before stuffing into her mouth. As she chewed, she smiled. She liked to watch him squirm every so often. Everyone needed to be reminded of their place now and again.

“Things are going to be changing around here. And I am betting not everyone is going to be on board with it.”

Gage arched the eyebrow above his good eye.

“Here is the part I know you aren’t going to like.” She swallowed. “I can’t tell you any more than that.”

Gage’s mouth dropped.

Before he could protest, Liz put a finger up to stop him. “I know… but I can’t risk anything getting out. I have to play this close to my chest… Too much is at stake. But when shit hits the fan, I need to know that you will follow my lead. That you’ve got my back, Gage.” Gage looked at her incredulously. Liz could tell he was confused and a bit hurt.

“Gage.” She said it more as a command than a name.

That was enough to shake him out of his stupor. “Yes, Boss. You know I’ve got your back.”

Satisfied, she returned to her plate. “Good. If you hear anything out of the ordinary, I need you to tell me right away. Don’t go sniffing around, mind you. That could raise suspicion. You gotta be cool.”

“I can handle it.”

Liz nodded. She dismissed him and finished her meal in peace. Returning to the kitchen, she turned the burner back on, placing the dirty frying pan on top. She walked away to a nearby closet as it started to smoke.

“Where the fuck did I put that thing?” she grumbled to herself as she rifled through box after box of records, holotapes and knickknacks. After a while, Liz finally pulled a tape from a suitcase. Returning to the kitchen, she saw the pan blackened with burnt remnants of food. She held her hand over her open sinuses in anticipation as she dropped the holotape into the pan. The bloodied orange and white plastic hissed and bubbled, spewing noxious black fumes that filled the kitchen. Only when she saw the last remnants of _TO OSWALD_ scrawled on the label burned away did she grab a hot pad and chuck the pile of slag into the sink.

Liz smiled to herself. She couldn’t have Oswald deciding to wander off and try to find some nonexistent cure if he ever found out his precious Rachel offed herself when she started going feral. Now he would stay and keep Louis safe no matter what happened.

\---

Before her meeting with Nate, Liz ended up changing clothes due to the foul smoke clinging to what seemed like every fiber of her jumpsuit. She walked through the doors of the Café wearing a simple Cappy t-shirt and dark jeans.

Nate sat in the corner of the bar, massaging his temples gingerly while watching the assortment of raiders in various stages of attempting to drink off their hangovers.

“Everyone OUT,” the Overboss commanded. The bar seemed to collectively groan, but slowly the patrons began to filter out into the street. The stragglers quickened their pace when Liz began to glare. She jerked her head toward the door. “Staff too.”

The Café empty, Nate walked over to the table and sat down-the same table Liz had held their previous meeting.

Liz went behind the bar, grabbed a few cans of purified water and a box of funnel cake, and placed them down in front of the General. “Have fun last night?”

“Maybe a bit too much… thanks.” Nate popped open a can and took a tentative sip.

Liz kicked her feet up on the table. “I’ve made a decision.”

Nate waited. Eventually he asked “And?”

“I’ll send for you in two weeks and you’ll get your answer.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“How am I supposed to take that?” Nate scowled.

“Take that however you want, hell if I care… but if you come back and I’m not here to greet you, you’ll have some idea of how things went.” She tapped the cake box with her boot. “Now eat up. I can’t have you leaving with an empty stomach.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: I hate being so mean to Oswald, but you have to [remember](https://youtu.be/DyDfgMOUjCI).


	7. Machinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz gets the ball rolling on her plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :Edited to clear up some grammar stuff: 6/28/19

Photo by  **[Jimmy Chan](https://www.pexels.com/@jimbear?utm_content=attributionCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pexels)** from  **[Pexels](https://www.pexels.com/photo/hallway-with-window-1309902/?utm_content=attributionCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pexels)**

For the next week, Liz found herself cooped up in Fizztop looking over intelligence pulled from all over Nuka-World. Her days were spent compiling dossiers, tabulating figures and pouring over reports. At night, she secretly crept into the cells beneath the Bradberton Theater. Gage would often come to her with some question or petition from one of the gangs to find her surrounded by empty coffee cups and piles of stacked notebooks.

"Anything I can help you with?" Gage looked over at the scribbles she was jotting down. Scattered between the masses of papers and dirty dishes were empty boxes of Mentats. Several canisters of Jet lay cracked open. "Boss, you okay?" His brows furrowed as he studied her. "When was the last time you slept? Your writing's looking a little... hard to read."

"I can sleep when I'm dead. The Jetted-up coffee takes care of the rest." Liz rocked back in her chair. "And my writing is fine; you just don't know how to read short-hand. Hell, it was hardly used before the war, except by some of the gals in the secretary pool who kept it alive. I bet I'm pretty much the only one in the whole Commonwealth left that could read it."

She could see the frustration on Gage's features, even though he tried hard to hide it.

"Look. I know it’s hard to just stand there with your thumb up your ass. Trust me, wheels are in motion.”

“It’s not just that, Boss.” He tried to hide his nervous hands behind his back. “Honestly… Boss… you look like shit.”

His frankness surprised her. Not that Gage was a particularly tactful man, but such bluntness ran the very real risk of getting under her skin…which was not a good place to be. Coming from him, though, it meant something. Liz quickly took stock of herself. Her eyes burned. Her fingers curled with painful cramps. Her back complained if she didn’t move or stretch often enough. In just the time she had stopped to focus on herself, she could feel the paralyzing fingers of fatigue start to force themselves into her exhausted mind and body, pulling at her, weighing her down. Liz rubbed her eyes while she forced down the last half of her chem-laced coffee.

“Boss?”

She ran her hands through her tangled hair. “I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll take a break soon. I’m almost done with this.” She could feel Gage giving her a disbelieving look. “I will.”

“At the very least, change your shirt or something.”

Liz looked down. The brown splashes of coffee mixed with dashes of smudged ink, marring her T-shirt. She had even managed to get quite a few bloodstains over the week. Thinking about it, she was pretty sure she had yet to change her clothes since meeting with ‘General’ Nate. These clothes could pretty much walk on their own by this point.

“Point taken.”

Later that afternoon, Liz finally allowed herself to stop. Every calculation was completed, every record tallied. She had her plans… as well as plans if anything went south. She couldn’t think about it anymore. After a shower and a long hard nap, she would start pulling the pins on her plans, waiting to see which ones would blow up in her face.

\---

As Mason sat down on his gorilla skin chair to watch an after-dinner fight between a few mutated molerats, he noticed a piece of folded paper stuck in between the cushions.

_TONIGHT. BIG MAMA. WE NEED TO TALK. ALONE. –THE BOSS_

Suddenly, Mason regretted the Overboss convincing him to finally learn how to read. He found it hard to concentrate on the spectacle in front of him.

The hours slowly rolled by, his sour mood discouraging others who tried to fraternize and distract him. When most of his gang finally settled down for the night, crawling off into their own musty corners, Mason crept down into the dark and dripping bowels of the amphitheater.

When he opened the door to the deathclaw’s prison, he found it lit only by a few guttering candles on a table in the middle of the room. Stepping forward, he saw a bloody bowl sitting next to them. His eyes slowly adjusted to the low light.

“Glad you could finally drag yourself away.” The Boss stepped out of the dancing shadows behind him. Her smile relayed that his attempt to stifle his surprise had failed.

“I came. What’s going on?” Mason leaned on the table as she grabbed the bowl. Glancing down, it appeared to be filled with ragged cuts of meat.

“We have something important to discuss,” she said cryptically. The Boss turned her back to him, walking slowly to the door he had entered through, closing it. In the silence, Mason could see she appeared to be unarmed. He could also see her slide the steel bolt in place, locking them both in.

She turned back to him. “And by discuss, I mean: I talk. You listen.”

Mason nodded his head guardedly.

She slowly strode across the room as she began to speak. “You know we had dogs before the war, right?”

Mason nodded again, making sure not to say a word. The wavering shadows played across her in an unnervingly eerie display, almost as if she was swaying as she moved.

“Lots of dogs. Dogs… they are smart, loyal, cunning. They hunt in packs and protect their own... but dogs can be vicious creatures, too. People died from dog attacks, even back then. Dogs could become aggressive, even attacking the hand that fed them.” She stared at him for a moment. “Do you know what we did to unpredictable and dangerous dogs like that?”

This time, Mason didn’t move his head. He knew she just wanted him to listen.

“Dogs like that—ones that attacked randomly or turned on their masters—they were put down quickly. Sometimes even shot in the street if they were a menace.” A deep rumbling came from beyond the cage door as the creature inside started to stir, the Overboss drawing near.

“But…” She let the word hang as she picked out a large chunk of meat from the bowl. “Dogs that were smart and could be trained, well, they were _useful_. Dogs can learn for all sorts of commands… sit, stay… attack… kill. We even had dogs trained for war. _Those_ dogs were the most valuable.They were well cared for and coveted.  They were the animal the enemies feared most.”

Mason watched gobsmacked as the Overboss extended the meat through the gap in the bars, hand and all. He felt a chill run through his body as a giant set of jaws carefully grasped their bloody prize, sliding it from between slippery fingers before swallowing it whole. As a fleshy glowing blue tongue licked the gore from her outstretched hand, the Overboss turned her head to look Mason in the eyes.

Coolly she glared at him, “So tell me, Mason. What kind of dog are you?”

The Pack leader had a feeling she knew his answer even before it came out of his mouth.


	8. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spider continues to spin her web...

The Parlor’s kitchen wasn’t Liz’s first choice to have this meeting, but she had to concede that it would be the easiest to keep the number of snoops to a minimum. Even so, soon after issuing a stern warning to the other Operators to stay away and closing the door, she heard the scrape of boots on the other side. Taking up a spot at the head of the long central island, she waved her hand in frustration. Rolling her eyes and grumbling, Mags Black nodded to her brother, William; a single strand of blond hair falling from her impeccably coiffed head.

William stood next to the door for a heartbeat before kicking it open with such wicked force; it propelled the unsuspecting eavesdropper on the other side clear across the hallway. The raiders’ unconscious body crumpled on the floor with a thump. He glared around at the other slack-jawed onlookers and growled, “Next time, I use my rifle instead.”

Liz smiled wickedly as the remaining stragglers scattered like roaches, dragging their comrade away, as William slammed the door again.

“Sorry for the distraction Overboss.” Mags coolly smoothed her hair back in place as she walked to the island. She eyed the pile of notebooks tucked under Liz’s hands. “Sometimes you have to say things twice for some people to listen.”

“Very true.” Liz agreed. “So I hope you understand why I only want to have this conversation once.” She pulled the first book off the top of the stack, flipping it to the first table as she slid it over to Mags. “These books are for your eyes only. Needless to say, if I find out you blab to anyone… those pretty hazel eyes will belong to me…. on a string around my neck.”

Mags smiled, “Of course” She started to study the pages as Liz spoke.

“This is the accounting for all of Nuka-World as we currently stand.” She slid her finger down to the bottom line. “We are barely breaking even. Yet we keep growing and expanding.” She gave Mags a moment to digest the data in front of her before pulling out the next book.

“We need to become self-sustaining, and I have a few ideas on how to could accomplish this. Now, we could expand into the Commonwealth, taking what we need until they retaliate or we exhaust all of their resources... or we could try this." She slid the second book to Mags, pausing to let her look it over. Before Mags could ask any questions, Liz continued. "There's a huge problem with the chem market right now... Maroswki, Skinny, the East City Downs gang... there’s hardly a single enterprise left to keep up with the demand. However, _I_ have a way to get exclusive chem trade deals with every major settlement in the Commonwealth, along with resource-heavy supply lines. If only I knew a couple of enterprising individuals that are up to the task of creating and maintaining such a production. Even better if they had a special little chemist in their pocket cooking up all sorts of new goodies to flood the market with..." She flipped a few pages and pointed to the bottom of another table. The number contained _a lot_ of zeros.

"You want us to go into business?” Mags balked. “ _Legitimate business_?”

“You really think any business, prewar or not, has _ever_ been legit?” Liz countered. “Heal every leper out there or flood the place with trash… I don’t give a shit how you run it, but if you want to swim in caps with more to spare, you need _me_ to open the door.” Liz could see the wheels turning behind Mags’ eyes. The fact that Mags couldn’t keep her eyes off the bottom of the ledger spread out before her warmed Liz’s little black heart.

\---

It was a lot easier to arrange a meeting with Nisha, the leader of the Disciples, than with the Operators. The Disciples’ bloody abode rested inside the base of Fizztop Mountain, nestled around the giant industrial machinery like some kind of roadside mountain town made entirely of butcher shops. Liz sat silently on top of this mountain, tracing the pattern of deep gouges in the wooden coffee table, a wet cleaver embedded inches away from a recently disembodied hand.

Liz picked up the hand, examining the remnants of a paisley sleeve clinging to the bits of gore at the wrist. "Are we going to have to have a talk about your gang’s extracurricular activities soon, Nisha?”

Nisha sat, unmoving, across from her. Liz hated the fact she rarely saw any of the Disciples eyes when she spoke to them. It made them harder to read… Then again, the eyes were the windows of the soul… and some windows are better left nailed shut.

“You really came all the way up here to tell me to clean house?” Nisha shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

“True enough.” Liz shrugged as she tossed the hand over her shoulder.

“It was only a matter of time before you had one of these little get-togethers with us, wasn’t it, Overboss? Now it’s our turn?”

“And here I thought I told the others not to ‘kiss and tell’… I’ll have to find out who’s been spreading rumors and pay them a little visit.”

“No need for all that, Boss. I figured this out on my own. No one’s talking, even with ample persuasion applied.” A hint of frustration flared in Nisha’s tone.

“Well, that is good to know. You just saved me a lot of wasted time and a couple of boxes of Abraxo.”

Nisha chuckled. “In all seriousness Boss… what’s going on?”

Liz knew she had to tread carefully. “I think you might have some idea…”

Nisha shifted her weight. “I’ve heard a few whispers, here and there. Most of them have involved that Minuteman General you seemed to be all buddy-buddy with. I hear he wants to cut a deal with you. Maybe offer you some juicy prize that will keep us out of his precious Commonwealth.” Liz could feel Nisha’s burning gaze through her hammered metal mask. “Maybe he wants to civilize the evil Nuka-World raiders?”

Liz opened her hands in a questioning gesture. “And what would you have said to him?”

“I would have smiled while we ripped his scrawny army to pieces in front of him.” A ruthless grin spread over Nisha’s lips as she spoke. “Then I would mount his beautiful empty head on the top of Fizztop as a warning to anyone else who might suggest such foolishness.”

Liz returned the deadly smile. “That’s exactly what I thought you were going to say.” She hit the table with an open palm, suddenly ending the conversation. “Thank you for your time, Nisha.” Rising from her seat, the two shook hands. “You’ve been a huge help. I know exactly what I need to do, and I have a lot of preparations to oversee.” She started to walk away. “Be ready.”

“Of course, Boss.” Nisha reclined. “The Disciples are already ready for a good bit of fun. You never disappoint.”

A few hours later, runners set out across the Commonwealth, tasked with drawing all the Nuka-World inhabitants back home. Liz’s plan marched steadily forward and within a few days, another runner was summoned. This one was bound to Liz’s old neighborhood, Sanctuary Hills.

 


	9. Greatest Show on Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz starts her plan off with a bloody bang.

Photo by  **[Aleksandar Pasaric](https://www.pexels.com/@apasaric?utm_content=attributionCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pexels)** from  **[Pexels](https://www.pexels.com/photo/people-raising-their-hands-2078071/?utm_content=attributionCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pexels)**

Liz loved watching the bustle around the park for the nearly invisible signs of her plan showing themselves. The invisible cogs quickened their pace when she received word the General was on his way from Sanctuary. Everything was coming together, even better than she had anticipated. As the General entered the park late in the afternoon, her sealed final instructions made their way to the respective gang leader. Liz decided to put Nate up in her penthouse for the night, satisfied with Dixie and Gage standing guard so no one would dare to try any funny business. The General wasn’t too happy about spinning his wheels for the night, but Liz had a few more final touches to complete before the show could start.

The sun rose in a hazy sky, but Liz had little time to sit and enjoy it, she had been up for hours. Dragging nearly ever raider to one place was a serious pain in the ass. The only venue large enough to house everyone was the main Nuka-Town square, right outside the circular market. A rudimentary stage had been built to add height and extend the 'map alcove', allowing those on stage to look down at the gathering crowd. Liz counted on the long-standing animosity to prompt self-segregation between the gangs. All she had to do was seed the prospective areas with the certain people to make sure each gang stayed in the zones she designated: Operators to her left, the Pack to the right with the Disciples milling about in the middle.

It was growing close to eleven when Liz got word that everyone was in attendance, the final few drug to their spots by an ornery Gage. She stood at the side of the stage as Mason and the rest of the leaders shuffled around off stage, trying to hide their boredom but keeping a cool eye on Nate. The crowd was getting restless. Liz let them stew a few minutes longer than was strictly necessary before ascending the steps, the other leaders trailing behind her.

Standing at center stage with her entourage flanking her, Liz looked out, quickly scanned the faces and belted out, “ALL RIGHT! EVERYONE, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

The crowd fell silent. She felt her voice could carry to the very corner of Nuka-World.

“I know what you assholes want to hear, but you… and the General…“ She glanced behind, glancing Nate up and down. "Are going to have to wait.” She heard a shuffle as, on cue, Mason guided Nate to upstage right, Mags and Nisha backing to the other.

“I want to make it absolute clear to each one of you sons-of-a-bitches here, that what we have here in Nuka-World is something unique… _something fucking_ _special_. You aren't going to find anything like this anywhere else. And, as your Overboss, I'm not going to let _anyone or anything_ take Nuka-World from us. I will do anything to keep us safe.” The crowd was drinking in her words. She decided to step it up a notch.

“Who’s going to keep you safe?” A weak chorus answered. She gave a death-glared down at the crowd, arms crossed. “ _Who?_ ”

“The Overboss!” That was better.

She wanted more. “ _WHO?_ ”

Nearly everyone was on their feet now “THE OVERBOSS!” Their answer thundered, followed by whoops and flailing weapons.

“That’s how I _expect_ a true Nuka-World motherfucker to answer!” Liz puffed her chest out. “And who’s the baddest motherfucker in Nuka-World?”

“THE OVERBOSS!”

She thrust her hands out, quieting the cheering crowd.

“You’re damn right.”

She couldn't stop a smirk from spreading over her scarred lips. _Time to make them shit their pants._

“Now, I want you to meet the newest member of the Nuka-World family.” She slapped her thigh, as if calling a dog to her side, only instead of a whistle; she let out a low growl.

The crowd glanced around nervously, confused. In the distance, a deep rumbling growl answered. Liz's smirk bloomed into a full on grin as she watched the audiences faces fill with fear. They all knew that sound. She just stood and drank it all in.

Behind the stage, a huge black clawed hand rose from inside the closed market and grasped the roof. With a swift feline-like grace, Big Mama made her entrance. Vaulting herself over the structure, the huge glowing creature landed with a thump next to Liz, snarling. The scattered screams and horror-filled eyes staring from the crowd was totally worth clearing out the market in the dead of night to lock Mama inside with a huge pile of meat.

Liz casually scratched Mama’s chin. “Say ‘Hi’, Big Mama” she prompted.

Mama trumpeted loudly, a supersonic shock wave knocking back the throng, several people in the front blown over by the force. The crowd semi-recovered, but were still frozen, unsure how to react.

In a distant corner, a single triumphant roar rippled across the impromptu theater.

"Fuck YEAH!"

The sound seemed to break the spell, as the entire crowd broke into a raucous applause, shouts and gunfire. Liz let the audience party as she directed Mama to stay behind her, motioning to her underbosses to join her by her side. The crowd, having released some nervous energy, naturally calmed down to where she could address them again.

“Now,” She walked to the edge of the stage. “Let’s get down to serious business at hand. There are only two organizations that pose any _real_ threat to Nuka-World: The Minutemen and The Brotherhood of Steel. Our very existence is a bloody thorn in the side of the Minutemen's peaceful and flavorless vision of the Commonwealth. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, would cream themselves if they got their hands on all our pre-war tech and fire power. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that shit out. I'd been planning for since we started to expand outside of the park."

"Here, imagine my surprise when the Minutemen’s very own General Popsicle walking through the doors, offering a deal nonetheless.” Liz walked over to Nate, stretching her arm over his stiff shoulders. “Gotta hand it to’em, that took balls. More than I thought any Minuteman might have.” She gave him a little squeeze as her other hand slipped her knife out of its sheath on her hip. "But this deal, it got me thinking. _-Thinking hard-_ about the future of everyone here. Here we are sitting pretty in our park, but how can we become something even stronger... spread our influence over the all Commonwealth, maybe even further? Would an alliance with the Minutemen be worth it?" Letting go, Liz began to pace next to Mason, picking at her teeth with the blade. "Just ask Gage... I thought about all this shit ‘till my brain was leaking out my ears. Then, I locked myself up tighter than Bradberton's hidden office bunker to figure all this out."

She made her way over to where three of raider leaders stood. This time she hung herself between the Black siblings, one arm draped over Mags' shoulders, the other over her brother. She still held her knife loosely, weaving it idly through the air under William's chin as she spoke. "I talked to all my underbosses about it, feeling everyone out. Getting their input, as it were."

Liz pursed her lips as if in thought for a moment, every movement calculated to pull in the audience's attention. With a disappointed shake of her head, her blade straightened itself on William's the stubble-speckled neck. "I hate to say it, but _one gang_ just wasn't on-board with my plan." Her free hand gripped Mags metal clad shoulder. "And that is just unacceptable. I won't stand for it." It was so hard not to smile as she watched the shock and fear once again creep over the watching crowd.

Without another word, she swiftly turned the blade away from William and plunged it straight into Nisha's neck. Blood gurgled to her lips. She slumped to the floor. Mason grabbed Nate, whisking him off-stage to safety. On cue, the trusted senior members of the Operators and Pack in the audience unleashed a deadly storm of bullets on the Disciples sandwiched between them, slaughtering many before they even had the chance to draw their own weapons.

" _NO!"_ Dixie sprang on Liz, her blades already drawn, her shock quickly dissolving into a murderous rage. _"YOU DOUBLE-CROSSING BITCH!"_

Liz didn't even have to move. She watched and grinned as a giant clawed hand effortlessly pinned Dixie to the boards. With a guttural snarl, Mama's giant jaws latched onto Dixie's metal-strapped helmet, crushing the life out of her lover in a matter of moments.

"Careful now, Mama," Ignoring the occasional projectile, Liz coaxed Mama to reluctantly let go of the twitching body. With a few quick slashes, she removed a few choice bits of metal armor. "I don't need you getting anything unpleasant stuck in your teeth. There you go, sweetie. Go to town." She gave an affectionate thump on the deathclaw's luminous hide.

A bullet grazed the Overboss's shoulder, causing her to wince. Turning on her heels, she faced the crowd, searching for the offending shooter. Once she locked eyes on the desperate man, she quickly dispatched him with a knife to chest.

"Ugh, seriously?" Fussing over her bloodied sleeve, she returned to Mama, who was happily munching away in the middle of the stage. The screams and gunfire began to wane. She gave the glowing creature a scratch before returning to the edge of the stage, looking at the bloody, body-filled ground where hundreds of people had once stood.

"Where were we... ah, yes. The plan. The remaining gang leaders have been briefed on the plan and have agreed to the terms." She motioned to Mason to bring Nate back on stage. He was looking decidedly greener around the gills. "Those terms being as follows. The Nuka-World raiders will aid the Minutemen in their offensive to end the Brotherhood. We will withdraw all our settlements and cease any expansion into the Commonwealth, keeping to Nuka-World." Liz pulled a cigarette from a pocket and lit it "In return, the Minutemen will share the spoils, as well as give us access to all established trade routes, along with exclusive and complete control to all chem trade and mercenary contracts within the Commonwealth," she nodded to the Blacks and Mason, respectively.

Nate, recovered, nodded in agreement. He stretched out his hand. Liz grabbed it, pulling him in close. "You're gunna love this next bit... soldier boy..." she whispered to him, pulling a lung full off the cigarette.

Liz gave a nod to Mason, who pulled a cowering Dr. Mackenzie up on stage. Liz reached into her pocket and pulled out a chunky black remote. Mackenzie gasped. The doctor knew a bomb collar detonator as soon as she saw it.

"Not only are we going _'legit'_ , but, as an act of good will...“ Liz opened a compartment on the side, slipping a key into the waiting slot. As she turned, the red light on the detonator and Mackenzie's collar turned dark, the lock sliding open with a clunk. "All of the traders are now free to go and do as they please." She puffed, releasing a long stream of smoke. " _However_ , as an incentive to stay and help Nuka-World grow, I am officially setting aside the town Bradberton as an area for anyone who wants to settle down in, under the complete protection of the Pack, of course."

Mason released a bewildered Mackenzie. All she could manage was to nod of comprehension, slowly skittering off stage as soon as Mason let go of her shoulders.

Liz turned back to the crowd. "And just to be crystal clear on this... anyone not on board with my plan..." she opened her arms dramatically before the sea of bullet ridden bodies before her, "can see my established termination policy." The whole park was as quiet as the grave, all except for the wet crunching of bone and meat from Mama and her meal.

"Seems we are in agreement then! Who's up for making the Brotherhood and the Commonwealth our little bitches?"

Every corner of Nuka-World rang with their thunderous answer.


	10. Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gage let's his feelings be known about the Overboss's new plan for Nuka-World.

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Gage stomped across the courtyard, muttering angrily as he pushed people out of his way. He was steaming. He had a front row seat to the wholesale slaughter of one-third of their people, his people. Not that he held a lot of love for the psychopaths that made up the Disciples. They murdered without thought or care for the consequences, taking life for the pure joy in it… but they were still one of the Nuka-World gangs. They deserved better.

With the stench of fresh blood burning his senses, he wanted answers.

The Overboss had already made her way off the stage by the time he reached her. Gage could feel his temperature rise, his pulse pound. She was _smiling_ as she spoke to those around her.

Without thinking, he reached out, roughly grabbing her arm. “What the flying fuck do you think you’re doing up there?” he growled. The Overboss stopped mid-sentence. She looked down as his hand and then back to his face. Along with a deep warning snarl from the creature behind him on stage, Liz’s annoyed stare prompted Gage to abruptly release his grip.

Liz waved her hand to calm her beast, her eyes locked on his. She turned to the Minuteman General standing next to her. “Please excuse me. I will meet you in the café shortly. I need to take care of something.” The ghoul turned to Gage, fury stirring deep behind her red-rimmed eyes. “Market. _NOW_.”

Gage followed behind her as she unlocked the empty trading center. His rage was still fresh, but it was now tempered by his proximity to her deadly wrath. She slammed the door shut behind them.

Gage couldn’t stop the words from leaving his lips, his volley meeting her turned back. “What the fuck are you thinking? You just murdered a whole gang of raiders out there! Do you have any idea what the fuck you are doing?”

She slowly turned to face him. “Of course, I do!”

Gage started to open his mouth again, his face red hot, but stopped as Liz raised a disfigured hand. Gage noticed what door they had entered the market though… the door closest to the weapon dealer’s stall. Did she make a mistake, or was this a calculated risk? Was this some kind of test?

“I put down a faction that wasn’t on-board with my plan and would have stabbed us all in the back the first chance they got. We’re better off without that bunch of psychos. The remaining gangs are so much easier to handle.”

Gage took in the information. He tried to temper his next words carefully. “Without the help of those psychos, how do you suggest we defend ourselves, then?”

“Didn’t you listen?” The Overboss rubbed her temples. “Let me make this simpler for you.” She looked down at him as if he was a stupid newbie. “Being a raider works great if you keep the operation small. A handful of raiders can keep themselves a float with smash and grabs, no problem. A small network of us can even share intel, coordinating attacks so the locals can’t prepare, crap like that. But here in Nuka-World, we have something different. We have thousands of raiders, all in one spot. No close settlements for us to shake down, nothing for us to raid. We can’t pick up and quickly book it to a new spot if Nuka-World get’s attacked. We produce nothing and barely bring in enough to feed our numbers. Shit, it’s hard enough to stop these morons from shanking each other for fun. Right now, it’s just one big circle-jerk.”

Gage chewed on these facts… sour facts he knew all too well.

“So…” The Overboss continued, “We have two choices. We could expand into the Commonwealth, crush the folks into submission out there. Great idea, but there are two problems with that. There are two HUGE forces out there would give us trouble if they decided they didn’t like our conquest of their precious settlements. Could we take them on? One at a time and with enough preparation, maybe… but if the Commonwealth settlements turn to the Minutemen for protection from the big-bad Nuka-World raiders, now we have to fight for each inch of ground we take. Let’s say we start to overwhelm the Minutemen? Guess who they run for help next? The Brotherhood, that’s who. No way in hell can we take a war on both fronts with that kind of firepower. We won’t survive. No one thinks twice about putting down a raider.”

“What would stop them from pulling that shit now? If you think that General gives a damn about us, you’re just as insane as the Disciples. Those Minutemen aren’t part of us, Boss!” he spat back.

The Overboss crossed her arms. “No, they aren’t a part of us. And we aren’t part of the Commonwealth… _yet_! At best they look at us as nothing but bunch of bullies, murderers at worst… but if they come to rely on Nuka-World brand chems and Nuka-World brand muscle to guard their precious little pile-of-crap farms? We become part of the fabric of their society. They’ll rely on us, trust us. We slip into their lives, inch by inch, and they won’t be able to do anything without us. And we sit back on our giant pile of caps high above it all in Fizztop, happy as ‘lurk queen in Quantum.” Her twisted shit-eating smile returned. “And all we have t’do to kick this whole thing off is pop a big metal balloon. We’ve got it made, all thanks to me.”

The logic of the move, as extreme as it was, started to make some kind of sense to Gage. He took a step back. Something itched at the back of his mind. He was still mad.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” The words felt heavy in this mouth.

“You think I don’t trust you. That I couldn’t trust you with this.” She replied coolly, searching his face for the answer. “Gage.” The Overboss stepped forward, just inches away from his face. She almost looked a little sad. “I don’t trust anyone but myself.” She walked away from him, casually inspecting the weapons on a nearby table, her hands trailing over as she continued to speak. “What really matters is…” She turned over a shiny silver handgun before putting in back down. “Are you on-board with the plan? You brought me into this outfit.”

She came to another weapon, stopping in front of it. Picking up the metal frame, ran a finger up one of the three desiccated deathclaw fingers, tracing the curve of the giant hooked claw. What she said next shocked Gage. Not because she was threatening his life, but because she sounded almost remorseful.

“I’d truly hate to see you removed from it. Now, I have work to do.” She glanced at him as she put the gauntlet down then walked out of the market.


	11. Splish Splash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations continue to build up for the upcoming attack, but Liz takes a moment to blow off some steam with her new best friend.

Liz felt the strain and pressure of the last few weeks of preparation lift, if only for a moment. It was replaced with the fact that she now had to bend and shape her raiders into not only a powerful fighting force, but also a manufacturing powerhouse, almost overnight.

After some negotiation, Nate sent a few low-level commanders from the Minutemen to work on organizing and training the Pack. Luckily, he took her suggestion to send them in civilian clothes to keep the Brotherhood from getting any ideas of their true mission. Liz had the old Disciples headquarters cleaned out under Fizztop Grille, moving Big Mama into a proper home. Not only did this mean Liz now had a wonderfully powerful guard dog to protect her front door, it also gave the Pack more room to expand their operation.

A number of the freed traders fled Nuka-World as soon as their collars were removed. More than she had expected stayed, taking up residence in Bradberton. This included their de facto mayor, the good Doctor Mackenzie. A few of the more dedicated traders even negotiated the use of a few apartments close to the market to be closer to their stalls.

It took longer than she expected to establish their new trade routes. Shank, ever the logistics wrangler, found the transition from organizing raids into the Commonwealth to master supply chain manager an easy change. Soon enough, more goods were flowing through the market and into the Operator’s kitchens, which had expanded into the buildings surrounding The Parlor. Their first priority was to stockpile enough food, chems and munitions to fully supply both Nuka-World’s forces and augment the Minutemen for the upcoming offensive.

Today, though… today, Liz was doing her best to keep her best armorer from being eaten by one very annoyed deathclaw.

“You need to hold still, Mama…” Liz scratched in between a few blue glowing belly scales with one hand, the other gently moving the giant head to look in her direction. Today was Mama’s helmet fitting, something they were both dreading. Mama wasn’t fond of the constricting armor that was already created, but this was another level of torture she was not ready to endure.

Bort was the artisan tasked with molding the various bits of high-grade ceramic infused steel from scrapped Galaxy Zone robots to cover all of Mama’s vital bits. He stood off to the side of Mama’s luxurious enclosure, trying his best not to drench the leather and scrap prototype with copious amounts of sweat. It took Liz a few tries, but she finally got Mama calm enough to relax and close her eyes. Cooing calmly to distract the beast, Liz motioned for Bort to get closer.

Working together, they slowly eased the prototype over Mama’s two giant curved horns, securing it under her chin. As Boris tried to tighten the buckle, Mama shook her head, trying to throw the offensive headgear off. She succeeded in cold-cocking Boris in the temple with a horn, knocking him out flat.

Liz smiled wryly and nodded her head. “Come on, Mama. Look what you’ve done!” Mama bent down, sniffing at Boris. She started to open her jaws, but Liz chided her gently. “You just had lunch, leave him alone.” Liz pulled the deathclaw’s giant muzzle to her chest, resting its chin on her sternum as she reached over and finished tightening the leather strap.

“There! Stand up and let me get a good look at you!” Mama stood back on her rear legs, her head nearly 11 feet above the ground. Liz smiled. “Now, move around a bit. Let’s see how it fits.” Mama paced the giant room, jumping and galloping around the internal concrete structures of Fizztop. The tremors of Mama’s weight on the floor woke Boris from his daze. Liz noticed Mama picking at the back of the helmet with her giant claws where it dug in.

Liz motioned for her to come close. She got out a pen. Again, she gently guided Mama’s head to her chest, marking areas to be altered.

After sending Boris away to work on fabricating the last piece of Mama’s armor, she turned to her monstrous charge. “You’ve been cooped up all day, haven’t you?” She scratched behind her horns. “Wanna go play in the pool? Cool off?” A giant stubby blue long tongue lolled out of her maw as she danced from foot to foot.

Liz opened the giant red door and Mama shot, bounding across the courtyard into the giant reflecting pool, rolling and dipping her huge body in as much of the water as she could. Liz laughed. Mama looked like a giant scaly puppy playing with pure joyful abandon. Quickly, many of the nearby people found better places to be than within striking distance of the deadly animal. A slow unlucky Pack member caught Liz’s attention.

“Hey!” She called to the woman in striped leggings and a pig mask. Reluctantly, the Pack member slinked up to the Overboss. Liz slipped her a handful of caps, ordering her to return with a leg of something from the market as quick as she could. Soon Liz was playing ‘keep away’ in ankle-deep murky water with half a brahmiluff leg. Liz weaved around Mama, teasing her with the meat. She waved it in the air inches from her nose before darting away, leaving Mama to slash and bite at nothing but air.

Liz held the leg in her teeth, swinging it back and forth across the pool from Mama, who's tail lashed side to side before bolting straight for her prize. Out of the corner of her eye, Liz caught a glimpse of some bright yellow armor off to her left. The distraction was only a few milliseconds long, but that momentary distraction slowed her down just enough that she could no longer avoid one of Mama's incoming claws. Mama's playful swipe caught her across her jaw, throwing her down into the fetid water. The meat went flying in the other direction, Mama in hot pursuit.

"BOSS!"

Liz got to her feet, wiping the greasy water from her face and eyes. The large gash on face burned and stung; blood running in a sheet down her neck. Feeling around, she found the sizable wound wasn't particularly deep.

"Boss?"

Gage was to her from the edge of the pool. He had stepped into the water, but was reluctant to get any closer, eyeing Mama with his hand on his weapon.

Liz waved him down. "It's fine. Just another scar to add to the rest of 'em." She turned to Mama, who was turned away from her, happily crunching away.

" _Mama_." She said the name with commanding authority. The deathclaw glanced up. "Drop it. Come here." Slowly Mama did as she was told. As she got closer to Liz, she started to sniff the air. Liz stood stock still, Mama inching nearer to her freely bleeding face. Liz stared into Mama's glowing blue eyes, her gaze never wavering. She could see the moment when the creature realized why her once happy playmate was now staring her down with a stern disappointed look. Mama shuffled back a few steps and bowed her head ever so slightly in apology. Liz extended her hand, rubbing Mama's own jaw slowly. Her firm expression softened into a weak smile.

"Be more careful next time, Mama. I don't have scales like you." Mama leaned into her hand. "Let's go get cleaned up. Back to your room." Slowly, the reptile began to slink back to her lair.

Turning, she saw Gage. He stood in awe, still barely a foot away from the water's edge. As she passed him, she called out. "Would you mind calling Dr. Mackenzie? I'm gonna need some stitches for this."

She shooed at Mama to speed her up as she sat on the edge of the pool, draining the water out of her boots. Looking down, she saw her shirt was ripped in several places. _Guess I'm pretty lucky she only clipped my face!_ she thought to herself.

She heard Gage's footsteps in the water behind her as he splashed around.

"Boss, I think you dropped this..." he held out her hollow claw talisman, now cracked and missing pieces. The lanyard was tangled with dripping wet weeds.

"Well, fuck..." Liz took the broken necklace and inspected it before dropping it back in the water. "Guess I won't be wearing that anymore."

Mackenzie was nearly finished with her row of stitches when she got word that Nate had entered the park. Liz pushed the doctor to finish faster. Over the objections, Liz got her to skip the last couple stitches in favor of slapping a bandage on the oozing wound and calling it good.

Liz found Nate in the bustling marketplace, chatting to a pair of merchants. Traders from around the Commonwealth and beyond had started to investigate the new market, ever ready to make a fistful of caps if the opportunity present itself.

"Good evening, General. To what do I owe your visit?"

"I just wanted to see how things were progressing. I had several positive reports from my people. I wanted to see for myself." He pointed to her face. "Is everything alright?"

"Just a little training accident, nothing to worry about. Would you like a tour of the new-improved Nuka-World?"

"No thanks. I feel like wandering around a bit... kicking the tires, if you like."

"Of course. General. I might suggest leaving Fizztop Mountain and Kiddie Kingdom off your itinerary for today... unless you want to test Mama's hospitality or to your radiation resistance."

Nate nodded. "Excellent points. Well, I am sure you are very busy with all the preparation. I'll leave you to them." He turned to go. "I'll make sure to touch base with you before I leave if I have any questions."

Liz wasn't particularly happy with such a cool reception in her own territory, but she knew well enough to leave it alone. He was transparent enough with his intention to see if she was keeping up her end of the bargain. She respected that.

Not that she was going to just let him skulk around unsupervised. A quick visit to Mason made sure he was tailed discretely as he wandered the parks by a few of the Pack's most promising infiltration units. If nothing else, this would give them good practice for future operations.

Liz spent the rest of the day getting reports of the General's movements while pretending to supervise weapon allocations around Nuka-Town and the surrounding parks. It appeared that not only was Nate checking on their progress but try to gauge both her troops and residents opinions of Nuka-World's new mission. From what her men could discern, the General liked what he heard.

Around dusk, Liz saw Nate walking towards her as she sat talking with Mags outside the Parlor. Dr. Mackenzie strolled by his side, chatting lightly. He nodded, taking his leave from the former slave and headed her way.

As he approached, Liz motioned for Mags to head inside, leaving the rusty patio chair open for the General. "So, did you find everything up to snuff, General?" She motioned for him to sit.

He remained standing. "I am quite impressed what you have managed to do here in such a short period of time. I could have done without the babysitters, though."

Liz waved the accusation way. "It's a good test for'em... from what I hear, your feats of sneakiness are quite impressive. Is it true you took out all those raiders in Quincy and they never even got a shot off at you?" Liz wasn't sure, but she though she saw a faintest hint of a blush.

"Maybe." He quickly recovered. "Enough about that. I thought we might start talking strategy, privately, for the assault on the Boston airport. If you have the time, of course..."

The Overboss rose from her chair. "My office should do. Not a soul would dare to bother us up there. I've been wanting to show you all the nasty little tricks I've been thinking up."


	12. Glow Stick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS AN OPTIONAL SMUT CHAPTER! You have been warned.

 

 

 

Photo by **[ Ivandrei Pretorius ](https://www.pexels.com/@ivandrei-pretorius-457987?utm_content=attributionCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pexels) ** from **[ Pexels ](https://www.pexels.com/photo/person-playing-on-light-2590609/?utm_content=attributionCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pexels) **

 

All the plans were set, every wheel turning in its prescribed place. Tomorrow was the big day. The day that the Nuka-World forces would join with the Minutemen to destroy the last threat to the Commonwealth.

Well, _try_ to destroy, Liz reminded herself. She sat on Oswald's faded couch, her shoulders aching after carrying Louis on her shoulders as they raced after the carts running circles around the park. She had tired him out with such gusto that he was sound asleep even before Oswald had finished grilling up their brahmin steaks. She was sure she was boring him with all the talk about strategy and tactics she had droned on and on about over dinner, but he let her talk. She even apologized once, but he had told her to continue. Maybe he thought she would tire herself out, but her mind buzzed with anticipation for the day to come. However, something dark pawed at the back of her subconscious, something she wasn't used to feeling. So she kept talking.

"I've talked it over with both our people and the General. They will keep the same deal I have with you about Kiddie Kingdom. No one will bother you." Oswald returned to the couch with a pair of glasses and another bottle of what was considered wine these days. Oswald had taken off his jacket and tie while he cooked, not wanting to get it stained with grease. Liz found that fact in of itself amusing given how many paint splotches he had collected over the years from keeping up the appearances of his fellow ghouls around the park. He filled the glasses and handed her one.

"Hell, Nate might even send you more ghouls that are looking for a safe place to stay. He has a pretty good reputation among the eternally mutated, from what I hear. He's helped out both The Slog and Goodneighbor quite a bit over the years, so there shouldn't be anything to worry about there..."

She took a good long sip of the acrid wine. The pungent liquid burned her sinuses as she swallowed.

"Finally taking a breath?" Oswald gave her a good natured chide. She smiled and shrugged. "Mind if I make an observation?" Liz nodded for him to continue.

He took a quick sip, then put his glass down on the coffee table. "You are really worried about tomorrow, aren't you?" Before she could offer rebuttal, rehashing all her plans and contingencies, he cut her off. "Put the glass down. You are wound up so tight, you look about ready to jump out of your skin. I thought that maybe letting you vent and a bottle... or two... of wine would help you relax, but it is clear that I have to give this a more hands on approach." Liz looked at him quizzically, slowly putting down the nearly drained glass.

He made a circular motion with his finger. "Turn around."

As she shifted on the couch, Liz caught Oswald remove his gloves. Staring at the peeling wallpaper when she felt his palms come to rest on either side of her neck as he started to talk.

"You've planned and schemed. You are ready for a bloody, knock down fight. I might even venture to say you are looking forward to it." His fingers massaged her tight muscles and knots, his touch ever so slightly tingling again her skin. Glowing ones emitted low levels of radiation constantly. It was toxic to nearly everything, except other ghouls and mutated creatures. For Liz, the added rads was like a warming balm, slowly relaxing her tense and overworked body. " But today you've spend nearly the entire day with Louis. You brought him a literal duffle bag full of cars and trucks." He dug his thumbs between her shoulder blades, his warmth dulled by the fabric of her shirt. She squirmed against the pressure and let out a little grunt as the muscles released.

Oswald stopped, resting his hands again on her shoulders. "You're afraid of not coming back... that this will be the last time you see your boy."

His words cut Liz to the core. She froze. It gave a name to that gnawing feeling that had been eating at her. For weeks she had hid it under work, but now it was laid bare before her. _Fear. Death. Regret._ Why was this battle so different than the centuries she had fought for her family's survival? She'd faced countless deadly situations and come out on top. Why was she afraid of failure this time?

"You're full of shit..." Liz tried to half-heartedly rebuff him. She was the all-powerful Overboss. She could never admit to such a weakness. "But you're only half right." Liz put her hand over Oswald's. "If I don't come back, I'll never have the chance to thank my dear friend for all he's done." She slowly looked down at her hand as she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. She couldn't see he face, but felt his reaction. He pulled away.

Liz let her shoulders drop a bit as she sat back on the cushions. "Well, you can't blame a ghoul for trying..." When she finally looked over as Oswald, she couldn't quite read his expression.

He wasn't quite looking at her when he spoke. "Rachel..." He seemed unsure. "Rachel can't ever find out..."

Liz had to suppress an internal giggle but she lost the fight to keep the smirk off her lips. She answered as sincerely and as honestly as she could "I promise, Oswald, Rachel'll never know."

Oswald reached out to stroke her cheek before drawing closer to tenderly kiss Liz, this lips tingling against hers.

After a few moments she purred into his ear. "You can hurt me..." Liz guessed that was the push he needed. Oswald pushed her down into the couch, his hands running down the sides of her body, pushing her shirt as up exposing her scarred breasts. Feverishly, he moved his mouth down her neck. Liz was undoing the buttons on his stuffy shirt when there was the sudden crash of glass shattering. One of them had knocked the rickety coffee table, sending the bottle toppling over

"Damn it!" she muttered as Oswald left her on the couch, reaching over to start cleaning up the destroyed wine glasses. Leaning back in frustration, she watched him work, one knee still resting on the couch for balance. A wicked idea suddenly sparked in her brain.

Reaching around his hips, she began to slowly stoke him through his paint-splattered pants. He froze. Liz half expected him to turn around and reprimand her. She found none forthcoming, so she continued. Reaching around with her other hand to unfasten his waistband, she slipped the restrictive clothing down and began stroking his thick unfettered cock. His spontaneous twitching only encouraged her to quicken her pace, adding the occasional love bite on his naked hips. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Liz unzipped her own pants.

Distracted, Oswald startled her by roughly grabbing her hand as he stood to face her. He seemed flustered, his glow intense under his dark skin.

Liz gave a wicked little smile. “That’s quite the fusion core you’re packing.” She sat nearly face to face with his erect dick. It pulsed and swirled a multitude of bright green shades. His thin transparent skin barely seemed to contain it. Even the drip of cum forming at the tip was luminous. Before he could protest, licked the droplet away as she enveloped his cock in her lips.

_One of the few prewar skills that actually came in handy anymore_ , she chuckled internally to herself. As her tongue caressed his shaft, the warmth of the radiation seemed to spread through her, tingling and teasing. It was like holding a raging radstorm in her mouth.

Oswald groaned. Liz glanced up, watching him watch her through half closed eyes. His hips twitched and twisted and she sucked harder. He cupped her head in his hands before pulling her to her feet. Kissing her fiercely, she returned his passion, enjoying tasting so many parts of him at once.

Pulling away, he turned her around, holding her close with his arms wrapped tightly around her chest. “Close your eyes.” He whispered.

No sooner had she followed his direction than she felt the world momentarily disappear from her senses. It was like being suddenly plunged underwater with no indication which way was up. Before she could react to the feeling of complete disorientation, she felt floorboards beneath her feet. Liz gasped as the realized they were suddenly standing in front of a neatly made bed in a room she had never seen. It was Oswald’s bedroom.

Oswald released her and swiftly removed her jeans and undergarments in one movement. Pushing her forward onto the bed, she let out a surprised squeal as she landed on her hands and knees at the edge of the mattress. Before she could even turn around to issue a smart remark, she felt Oswald’s fingers grab her hips, holding her in place as the hot tip of his slippery glans glided across her slit, teasing her.

Now it was Liz’s turn to let out a ravenous moan. Oswald pushed inside her, sending electric shivers cascading through her body.

“Oh… goddamn…” Those were the last words Liz could form as Oswald started to pump against her. The insane mixture of tingling radiation wildly spiking with his thrusts and her hungry body broke the rational part of Liz’s mind. His rhythm quickened. White hot with pleasure, Liz grunted and grabbed madly at the sheets on the bed trying to steady herself, destroying their careful tucks and folds.

Normally, she was the one in control in the bedroom, carefully measuring up her partner and pushing them to their limits. Here, she was the one being driven to the edge, unable to focus and losing herself to the pleasure and pain of it. The radiation flooded her senses, overwhelming them. Gasping and groaning in an orgasmic haze, Liz bit her own balled fist in an attempt to focus. She failed.

Oswald pounded into her, his fingertips dug pleasurably into her hips. His breathy moans, fast and ragged as he came, drove her over the edge. Instantaneously, a wave of overpowering radiation hit her as her body hitched in orgasmic release, ecstasy washing through her every cell.

Finally releasing her, Liz collapsed on the bed, her legs twitching with exhaustion. Oswald sat unsteadily beside her. Rolling over, she noticed a rivulet of glowing cum racing down her leg. She looked Oswald over in a new light. She had never been fucked by a glowing ghoul. She had no idea what she was missing. Now, she wanted more.

Oswald glanced over at her sheepishly. “Sorry, I got a little carried away.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Ozzy? If you are up for it, I’m more than willing to redecorate this room like a light up Jackson Pollock painting.”

Several intense hours later, the morning sun broke through a half-shaded window onto the bed.

“Holy shit, what time is it?” Liz crawled across the mattress to tap the alarm clock on the nightstand. Neither of them had gotten any sleep.

“Are you going to be okay?” Oswald asked, worry knitted his hairless brows.

“I can sleep when I’m dead.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won an art contest on tumblr and look what my prize was! A flirty Oswald the Outrageous! Please give the artist ( https://mrskrazy.tumblr.com/ ) some love!


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